Coming Home to You
by mishasbabyminion
Summary: Emma thought that moving into her new apartment with her boyfriend, Neal, would be her happy ending. Cue her new, extremely hot, neighbor, Killian Jones. Here come the trials and tribulations Emma faces along the way to her happiness, at long last.
1. New Beginnings and Hot Neighbors

"Neal!" Emma shrieked, laughing as he picked her up bridal style to carry her across the threshold of her new apartment. "That was seriously unnecessary, babe."

"Lies," Neal teased, kissing her lips lightly. "If I didn't carry you across the threshold, you would resent me in minutes, then leave me for some scoundrel with an accent, and I would be all alone in this big, empty home."

Emma rolled her eyes and wiggled, prompting Neal placing her lightly on the ground in front of him. "Ye of little faith," she said softly. "I could never leave you, Neal. You're my everything."

"Any you're my Tallahassee," he finished. "Are you mad that we landed in Boston instead of Tallahassee?"

Emma shook her head and turned around to face the empty apartment. It would take some work, time, and love, but this would be their Tallahassee. This would be their home.

Neal seemed to get what she meant from the shake of her head because he closed the step gap between them and pressed his lips to her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I love you," he muttered into her shoulder. "So much, Ems."

"I love you too, Neal," she returned the sentiment, placing her hands atop his. "Now what do you say we start ripping some of these boxes open and start putting our place together?"

Neal grinned. "I love a challenge," he said, laughing and pulling away from her. "Let's get to work!"

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

The door slammed and Killian groaned, not wanting to face the wrath of an irate Milah. Things had been going well the last few months, but her husband was getting suspicious and Killian was the one to pay the price. Because it was _all his fault_ that he fell in love with her and she decided that it would be a good idea to hold two relationships at once. Totally his fault. All of it.

Milah stormed into his bedroom, slamming her purse down on the dresser as she entered. "He's tracking my bank accounts now, Killian," she snarled, not bothering with a greeting. "Are you happy now?"

Killian sighed; they had had this argument before, when he was tracking her cell phone. "Why would I be happy that _your husband_ is worried about you, darling?" he said, suddenly tired.

"Because you get to see me like this!" she shouted, running her hands through her already ruffled hair. "Because you have _always_ been jealous of my relationship with him."

This was the tipping point for Killian; of course he was jealous. She was still married and he loved her more than anything in the world. He knew that she was trying to push his buttons, and it was working.

"Me?" he questioned, sitting straight up in the bed he had wanted to share with her since their dalliance began. "Be jealous? Love, I wonder why I would _possibly_ be jealous of that wrinkled old crocodile you're married to."

"Now is _not_ the time for sarcasm, Killian," she snapped. "This is serious!"

Killian sighed, all of their fights coming to a peak as he stood from the bed and crossed the room to her. "You need to make a choice," he said softly. "Me or him, whom you choose?"

"What are you talking about?" his soft tone had clearly thrown her off from her ire.

"You need to make a choice," he repeated, looking her dead in the eyes.

"Why?"

"I'm tired of playing this game, Milah," Killian sighed, dropping his eyes. "I'm tired of not having you with me when I want you to be. I'm tired of fighting for your affections and having you mad at me when _he_ decides to fight back. So, you need to make a choice. Me or him?"

"How can you ask this of me," she said, words full of disgust. " _He's my husband!"_

"Whom you have been cheating on for the last two years," Killian stood his ground. "You can either leave him and choose a real relationship with me, or you can leave me and go back to your husband."

Instead of answering, Milah shot Killian a dirty look, grabbed her bag, and stormed out of the apartment.

"I guess I have my answer," he said softly as he heard the door slam. Sighing, he climbed back into the bed, which suddenly felt even bigger than it usually did without her. What had he done?

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Neal and Emma flopped down on their couch, the day finally catching up to them. It had taken five hours of intense manual labor and arguments about what should go where, but their apartment was almost complete. Dishes were put away, clothes were organized in dressers, and decorative soaps were put out in the bathroom off of the living area. It was small and slightly cramped, but it was theirs and that was all that they really cared about.

Emma was resting her head on Neal's lap, her back protesting all of the lifting and moving they had been doing that day when her stomach started protesting. Neal laughed, hearing it clearly, even though they had been talking about finally landing their Tallahassee.

"Think it's time for some dinner, babe?" Neal teased, moving his hand to rub over her grumbling stomach. "I don't think either of us have eaten much today, and I know that _I'm_ getting hungry."

Emma laughed, looking up at her boyfriend. "What are you thinking of?"

Before Neal had the chance to answer, they heard a door slam from next door and someone stomping down the hallway.

"I'd hate to be the poor bastard that had to deal with _that_ ," Neal said, laughing. "That didn't sound like a good thing."

"Maybe we could go introduce ourselves?" Emma suggested, a glint in her eyes. "And then we could find out a little information about our door-slamming neighbors."

"I like the way you think."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Killian had been lying spread-eagle on his bed for about twenty minutes, moping, when then knock sounded on his door. He rolled his eyes; of course this fight with Milah couldn't have ended easily. Rolling his eyes, he pulled himself from his bed and walked to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole at his visitor. If it wasn't Milah trying to make amends, he was a bloody pirate.

Opening the door, he was met with a young couple that he had never seen before. "Well I am bloody pirate," he said, shocked. The couple in front of him looked confused, and he realized that he had spoken aloud. "Sorry about that, I was expecting someone else," he explained. "I'm Killian; I don't think I've seen you around here before."

The woman shook her head with a smile. "No," she said sweetly. Her voice was low and rough, like an angel that had been sent in disguise. "We actually just moved in next door."

"I'm Neal, and this is my girlfriend, Emma," the man explained. "We thought we would come over and introduce ourselves… and maybe admit that we heard someone slamming your door earlier and decided to be nosy."

The woman, _Emma_ , rolled her eyes and elbowed Neal in the ribs. "While that may be slightly true, we really did come over to introduce ourselves."

Killian seemed to realize that he had been staring at the couple before him. "I'm sorry," he said, "where are my manners? Would you like to come inside? I was just about to order a pizza, and you're more than welcome to join me."

Emma grinned and led the way into his apartment as he stepped out of the way. "We would _love_ to join you, Killian," she said, excitedly pulling on Neal's hand.

Killian was so screwed.


	2. Sleazy Skips

_Okay, so for this fic I plan on alternating POVs per chapter, starting with Emma. The first chapter I didn't do that way because I needed to establish Emma and Neal moving in as well as Killian fighting with Milah. I hope this doesn't confuse anyone, especially since I'm uploading one chapter after the other. I have a lot planned for this story, and this is the easiest way for me to tell it._

 _This chapter's song is "Long Cool Woman (In a Black Dress)" by The Hollies. Enjoy!_

With the stressful move from Arizona to Boston completed, Emma finally had the time to establish herself as a bail-bondsperson in the city. Neal hadn't liked her schedule back in Arizona with her job, so she was trying her hardest to make a schedule in catching her skips. The problem was that skips tended to not follow a stable routine.

Emma sighed, pouring over bank statements on her laptop. Apparently, her newest skip had a nasty habit of visiting high-end strip clubs. This made her job easy, but difficult at the same time. She knew that she would be able to trap him by playing the "easy-to-bed blonde", but she wouldn't be able to do it on her terms in a restaurant. Instead, she was going to be thrown out of her element and into a pricey strip club. Maybe she could convince the owner to let her play stripper for a night.

 _Neal will not be happy with this_ , she thought. The bank records were telling; the skip frequented the same three clubs in an alternating pattern, always on a Thursday night and always well after the sun had set. And if he was a strict follower of his routine, he would be at _The Jewel of the Realm_ tomorrow night.

The door slammed shut, announcing Neal's arrival home and startling Emma from her thoughts.

"Hey, babe," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he passed the desk. "Anything new?"

"Skip has a habit of frequenting strip clubs," Emma started, knowing where this conversation would end.

Neal stood behind her with a hand on her shoulder. "Let me guess…"

Emma nodded, not letting him finish his thought. "Tomorrow night," she said. "I have to call the owner in a few minutes to get my cover down."

She could feel Neal tense behind her and knew that this was a conversation best had away from the entrance of their apartment, where their desk sat. She pushed the chair back from the desk, Neal moving automatically. She walked to the empty spare bedroom, the room farthest from the front door of their apartment, so that they could talk without interruptions.

"Ems, we have barely been in Boston for two weeks," Neal started, frustrated already. "How have you already found a job that will have you leaving the house looking like you're a piece of meat ready to go to auction?"

Emma clenched her teeth, keeping her back to Neal. She _really_ hated having this conversation with him. "How many times do I have to tell you?" she forced out. "I am perfectly safe in doing my job and dressing provocatively is the easiest way to get the job done."

"But posing as a stripper, Emma?"

"It works, Neal. It makes my job easier," Emma spat. _And frankly it feels nice sometimes to have guys look at you like you're the sexiest thing in the room,_ she added mentally. "Listen, we've had this conversation before," she said, finally turning around to face her boyfriend. "I _like_ my job, Neal. It's one night. Nothing will happen."

"I just worry about you, Emma," he said softly, stroking her cheek. "I don't want to see you get hurt, and I don't want to see other people looking at you like you're a sure thing – like you're going to end up in their bed at the end of the night. I might or might not be a little bit jealous."

Emma pressed her lips to his, pulling him in a deep embrace. "You know I'm a big girl, right?" she asked when she pulled away. "Even in situations like this, I can take care of myself."

"I know," he said, nuzzling into her shoulder. "I promise I'll get better about your job. I just need to get used to knowing that you'll be back in my arms at the end of the night."

"And you know I will be," Emma said with a grin. "Now what do you say we go to bed and _resolve_ our little issue?"

"I think that's the best idea you've had all night," he said with a laugh.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Emma pulled her hair up in a no-nonsense ponytail so it stayed out of her way while she was working (it was times like these that she considered cutting all of it off and being done with it, but it had taken her _years_ to get it to the length she desired it to be). When it was up, she curled the ends of the hairs hanging from the holder so that they took on a tousled, carefree look before looking back in the mirror to apply her makeup. Tonight, she was wearing way more than she usually would – she had to attract someone she usually wouldn't be interested in, and that meant caking on foundation, contouring her cheekbones, winging her eyeliner, and putting on blood-red lipstick.

Honestly, she thought she looked pretty hot.

This was all paired with the slinky black dress she had borrowed from her new friend in town, Ruby, who was used to playing up her figure to encourage drunks to tip more without really knowing what they were doing. The dress came barely past her ass and was cut almost down to her nipples, with pieces cut out of the sides that showed more than enough of her creamy, pale skin. Add this to her red stilettos that made her legs go on for _miles_ , and she was ready to play the part of a stripper in a high end club.

It was a damn good thing that Neal was working late tonight.

Grabbing her clutch and stuffing her phone in its depths, she took one last look in the mirror, adjusted the top of her dress, and walked out the door…

Straight into Killian Jones, her attractive next door neighbor.

"Swan," he said, clearly startled. "You look… well, you look stunning, love."

Emma blushed, forgetting for a moment that she was dressed to lure in a pervert. "Thank you, Jones," she said. "What are you up to tonight?"

He pulled on the back of his ear, smiling shyly. "Actually, I have a date tonight. Well, I think it's a date. My, uh, girlfriend and I didn't really get along last week. I'm hoping that tonight we can make amends." She caught his quick glance up and down her body. "Um, I take it you have big plans tonight?"

Emma laughed, noticing immediately his hesitance. "A job, actually," she said with a grin. "I work in bail bonds. I'm picking up a skip tonight."

"Dressed as… well, lass, I would say that you look like a modern-day bar wench, but I don't want to offend you," he teased, raising an eyebrow.

"He frequents some pretty high end clubs," she said, "and tonight I'm posing as one of the girls he usually picks up at these clubs."

"Ah, undercover work," Killian said with a smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Have a nice night, Swan."

"You too, Jones," she said with a smile.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Emma hated this part of her job; the sleazy guys, the reek of booze following her every move, the eyes following her every move. She knew that this was the way to get the job done, and she may have felt fantastic, but she _hated_ feeling like she had to watch her back at every turn. She hadn't had to do that since she left the foster system.

At least it got the job done.

Currently, she was leaning over a table and hoping that her breasts didn't end up spilling out of her borrowed dress.

"How can I interest you tonight, handsome?" Emma asked her skip, lowering her voice to make it sound more sultry. "Do you have any… _ideas_ … about how we could spend our time?"

Her skip was obviously interested; she could tell in the ways that his eyes lingered on her breasts and the shortness of her skirt. His breathing was labored and she could tell that her outfit was doing fulfilling its intended purpose.

"How about we get away from here for a while," he said, running his hand up her thigh to her hip, "and have a bit of fun?"

This was what she was waiting for. She reached behind her to the slit in the back of her dress, right above her ass, where her handcuffs were hiding. She was surprised that no one had noticed the outline of the cuffs on her lower back, but that was the influence of alcohol for you.

"You mean taking you in for skipping bail?" Emma asked in her sultry voice, slapping the cuffs on the hand that was resting on her hip. "Because that sounds like the best kind of fun to me."

"You _bitch_ ," her skip snapped, trying to pull away from her.

"You're going to have to be more creative than that," Emma said, fastening the other half of the cuffs to the table and pulling out her phone to contact her friend at the police station. She called in her location and sat down at the table next to her skip, taking his untouched drink and downing it. "You see, I deal with scumbags like you every day, and you are in no way the worst one I have dealt with."

Truthfully, this was an easy end to her day.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

She was exhausted as she walked back into her apartment building and her feet were _killing_ her. She was very excited to be able to get out of these shoes, peel off the skin-tight dress, and curl up into her warm bed with Neal.

"Swan?" she heard from behind her as she pressed the button to call the elevator.

Emma turned around to see Killian with a pretty, brown haired woman hanging from his arm. "Hey, Killian," she said with a tired smile. "How was your night?"

Killian looked at the woman on his arm, eyes full of love and adoration; the woman he was with was looking at him the same way. "I'd say that it went pretty well," he said with a grin. "What about you? Did you get the guy?"

"I always do," she grinned. The elevator arrived and the three boarded, Killian hitting the button for their floor. "This one was probably one of the easier ones," she continued. "He couldn't keep his hands to himself, though I would appreciate it if you didn't mention that little fact to Neal. He can get pretty jealous sometimes."

Killian laughed, pulling on his ear. She was quickly learning that was an adorable little habit he had when he was embarrassed or feeling shy. "Deal, Swan," he said with a shy smile.

"I'm Emma, by the way," she said, directed at her neighbor's companion. "I live next door to Killian."

The elevator came to a stop, the doors opening on their floor, as the woman answered her. "I'm Milah," she said, "Killian's girlfriend."

"It was nice to meet you," Emma said when they reached her apartment. "I hope you guys have a good night!"

"Night, Emma," Killian said, a smile on his face and his hand in Milah's.

Emma entered her apartment, immediately looking at the dish where they kept their keys. Neal wasn't home.

"Hmm," Emma wondered out loud, dropping her bag on the counter and kicking off her shoes.

She wasn't worried; she and Neal trusted each other, and she knew that he probably just had a late night at the paper. Instead of worrying, she settled herself on the couch after fixing a steaming mug of hot chocolate and kicked her feet up onto the table. It was time for some much needed sitcom therapy, and Netflix had her answer; should she choose Friends or should she choose her guilty pleasure, Glee? As she thought over her choices, she heard the door to her apartment opening and a muttering coming in with it.

"Neal?" she called out, not moving from the couch. "Are you home?"

There was a pause, the muttering stopping, before Neal entered the living area. "Hey, babe," he said with a grin. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."

Emma stood up and faced her boyfriend. His eyes opened widely as he took in her appearance. "I missed you," she said, dropping her voice to the tone she used to pick up her skip.

"Wow, Emma" Neal's eyes were still wide, not leaving Emma's. "You look… God, Ems, you look amazing."

Emma grinned, walking to Neal's side and taking his hand. "I know," she said, her confidence surging.

"Where did you even _get_ that outfit?" he asked, squeezing her hand in his. "I mean, not that I'm _mad_ about it, but… Wow."

Emma laughed and pulled Neal to sit down on the couch with her. "How was your night? Was there a big story?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," he said, distracted. "There was… a robbery, down at the docks. They wanted me to cover it."

"How did that go?" she asked, rubbing her hand up his thigh.

"Story still in progress," he said, meeting her eyes. "Not that it's really a concern right _now_ ," he laughed. "How was your night, babe?"

"Easy skip," Emma said with an eye roll. "Honestly, I should have known going in that it would be easy. The guy was a perv." Neal looked concerned, so she set about quashing his worries. "He didn't do anything bad, Neal. Nothing I wasn't expecting anyway. Honestly, it was one of the easiest jobs I've had in months. Easiest payday ever."

Neal kept his eyes locked on hers, his softening as they were locked on hers. "I love you, Emma Swan," he said roughly. "So much."

"I love you, too," she said.

With that, they took to each other's arms and went to bed.


	3. Heartbreaker

"How's everything been with you, mate?" Graham asked, knocking back a shot of rum as they sat at the bar of the _Rabbit Hole._ "Didn't you say that someone moved in next door?"

Killian grunted, throwing back his drink and gesturing the barkeep for another.

"I know that look, Killian," Graham said seriously. "What's going on?"

"It's my new neighbor," Killian started, "and, I guess, my relationship with Milah."

"Let's cover one thing at a time," Graham said with a chuckle. "Do you want to talk about your neighbor or your girlfriend?"

Killian rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. "I'd prefer not talking about either, but I have a feeling it will be forced out of me," he said sarcastically. "Do I want to talk about my extremely attractive neighbor who is already in a committed relationship, or do I want to talk about my girlfriend who is in an even more committed relationship, given the fact that she's already _married_? This is such a hard decision."

Graham sighed. "Why do you do this to yourself, Killian?" he asked.

"Do what?" Killian asked with a knowing smirk. "Dig myself in a hole so deep that I can't see the light anymore?"

"Yes, you arse. Now tell me about this new neighbor. Then we can discuss Milah."

"She's… bloody amazing," Killian said with a sigh and a grin. "They just moved in about three weeks ago, and she is the most stunning woman I have ever met. She and her boyfriend moved here from Arizona, and all I know is that she does something with the law and undercover work."

"Wait, are you talking about Emma Swan?" Graham asked, eyes glinting mischievously. "Blonde hair, green eyes, and legs that seem to go on for days?"

Killian furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "How do you know Swan?"

"She works for our department as a bail bondsperson," Graham said with a smile. "She's… quite the spitfire. I can see why you are drawn to her, my friend."

"That's the problem, though," Killian complained. "I _shouldn't_ be drawn to her. I am already in a committed relationship."

"With a married woman, mate," Graham said with a roll of his eyes. "You shouldn't be drawn to _her_ , either."

"I thought we were done having this conversation."

"We're _never_ done having this conversation, Killian."

Killian sighed, rolling his eyes and polishing off his drink.

"What's going on with Milah, anyway?" Graham questioned. "Are you guys still seeing each other on the sly?"

"Honestly, Graham, I have no idea what she wants from me anymore," Killian said, eyes trained on the bottom of his empty glass.

"Didn't you tell me a few weeks ago that you gave her an ultimatum?" Graham asked, signaling the bartender for another round. "I assume that she chose you since you are still in contact with her."

"That's my problem!" Killian argued. "I thought she chose her husband when she stormed out of my apartment after I gave her the ultimatum. Then, about a week ago, she calls and wants to go out to dinner and 'talk'."

"I'm guessing you didn't talk?"

"Considering the entire evening she kept running her foot up the inside of my thigh, no," Killian sighed. "It didn't help that I met Emma in the hallway on our way out and she was dressed… well, you work with her. I'm assuming you know how she was dressed."

Graham laughed, his eyes closing and a grin forming on her face. "I take it you had a long night?"

He nodded, saluting the bartender who dropped another round in front of the pair. "Needless to say, Milah and I ended up in my bed without really talking about anything important."

"Mate, she's making you miserable," Graham said softly. "I think you know what you need to do here."

Banging his head atop the bar, Killian groaned. "I love her…"

"Do you really, though?" his friend prompted. "Or has it just become convenient?"

Killian knocked back his glass of rum, giving Graham a dirty look as he dropped enough cash in front of him to cover his drinks, along with a generous tip. He shook his head as he pushed away from the bar and walked away from his best friend.

"Just think about what I said, mate!" Graham called from behind him, still seated.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

He woke the next morning with a raging hangover and a mouth so dry he could start a new company that produced cotton shirts, half hanging from his bed. He groaned as he looked at the clock, seeing it was well after the time he usually liked to get out of bed on a weekend. Burying his head in his pillow for one more minute, he forced himself from the comfort of his mattress and put himself under the spray of an extremely cold shower.

He still had a raging headache when he was toweling himself off and brushing his teeth, but at least now he didn't feel as if he had bathed in alcohol. In fact, he was even feeling up to making himself a light brunch when he heard a knock on his door.

Killian shook his head, thinking that it must be Graham trying to continue their conversation, or maybe Milah coming over to yell at him for another asinine reason. He was not expecting to open his door to _her_.

"Swan," he said, startled. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her eyes twinkled and a smile was on her face before she answered. "I saw you stumble in last night, Jones." He raised his hand to rub behind his ear sheepishly. Of course she had. "And I saw how _trashed_ you were, so I figured I would offer you my patented hangover cure."

Killian raised his eyebrow before finally noticing the greasy bag in her hands. "And by patented, you mean that you discovered what a wonder Granny's is?"

"What can I say?" she laughed. "I'm a sucker for onion rings. Now, are you going to leave me sitting out here all afternoon, or are you going to let me come in and help you eat these delicious grilled cheese sandwiches and onion rings that I'm sure Granny _slaved_ over?"

Killian shook his head, a grin on his face, before moving out of her way and gesturing into his apartment. They settled themselves at his kitchen table, splitting the food evenly onto his finest china – also known as paper plates that had already been sitting upon his countertop. He had to admit that the smell of greasy food was appealing and his stomach was rumbling, making Swan laugh.

"I take it you didn't eat while you were apparently binge drinking last night?" she teased.

"Does eating the pretzels at the bar count?" he countered, standing to get each of them a tall glass of water. "What were you doing up anyway? If I remember correctly, it was pretty late when I arrived back at the complex."

"I was in the lobby, Einstein," she rolled her eyes at his dazed expression. "I had just gotten back from tailing a skip (with no result, might I add) and needed to check in with the station when you stumbled through the door. I guess you didn't see me. You were pretty intent on getting to the elevator without falling, or that's what it looked like to me."

Killian sat back down across from her, rolling his eyes and passing her a glass of water. "No, I did not see you," he admitted, biting into an onion ring. "Oh my, this is heavenly."

"As I said, patented," her tone had gone to teasing for a brief moment before turning serious. "Killian, I know that I've only been here a few weeks, but I don't think I have ever seen you lose control of your alcohol before. Is everything okay?"

He _really_ didn't want to talk about this right now. Not after getting into it with Graham the night before. So, like the coward he was, he changed the subject. "Where's Neal today?" he asked, feigning curiosity. "I'm sure you would much rather be with him instead of your brooding neighbor."

She rolled her eyes, clearly not amused by his diversion. "He's sleeping. He had to work late last night, and I wanted to make sure you were okay," she said, prompting his issues from the night before. "Killian, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Of course, Swan," he stated. "Why do you ask?"

"Why aren't you being honest with me? I can tell when someone is lying, and you might not be doing so directly, but you are sure as hell avoiding something."

"It's just something I'm working through. Nothing I can't handle."

"Is that why you could barely walk last night? Because you could _handle your situation_?"

Killian felt himself gritting his teeth; this was the last thing he wanted to talk about with her. "I really don't think we need to go down this road right now, Emma," he said, his voice tense. "As I said, it's nothing I can't handle. Also, it's nothing you _can_ handle."

Emma glared for a moment before relaxing. "You're right, I'm sorry."

Killian let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. "It's alright, Swan. Now, tell me. How are you enjoying Boston so far?"

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

He and Emma talked for two hours before she had gotten a text from her infernal boyfriend asking her back to their shared apartment. He knew that he had no right to be jealous; he was only her neighbor and they had only just met. He had no claim on her, yet he felt drawn to her in a way that he had never felt with Milah. In a moment of clarity, he realized what Graham had been trying to tell him the night before. Milah wasn't it for him; after all they had been through together, he didn't really love her any more. He was tired of her games and tired of not being enough for her. This farce had to end. He just didn't know how to break it to her.

Considering his options, he cleaned up his impromptu lunch with Swan and set about tidying his apartment – it had gotten a bit out of control this past week, he had been so distracted. It wasn't overly messy, it just wasn't up to his usual standard of cleanliness and that frustrated him, so he folded blankets, sorted piles of laundry to be taken later that day, and he had reorganized his cabinets.

It was immensely satisfying to be able to put his life back in order, especially after figuring out his dilemma. The Milah situation really had been bothering him for some time, and deciding that it was time to end things, though quite saddening, left him feeling lighter than he had in _months_.

He was pulled out of this line of thought by hearing his front door opening and slamming shut. _Oh, joy,_ he thought, _Milah. I guess this is now or never._

"I ran into your neighbor on my way in," she started, already angry with him about something, "and she mentioned to me that she was quite worried about how drunk you were last night. _Why_ were you out drinking with your neighbor and _why_ am I finding out about it from said neighbor instead of _you?_ "

Killian sighed, running his hand through his already tousled hair. "I didn't go out drinking with Emma last night, Milah," he defended.

"Then how did she know how drunk you were?" his girlfriend accused.

"Because she saw me come into the building after I got done drinking with Graham," he said, rolling his eyes. "Really, Milah, why is this such an issue? You have never gotten mad at me for drinking with a friend before."

"Because I _saw_ the way you looked at that… tramp… last week," she accused, "and if that isn't a reason for me to be jealous, what is?"

Taking a deep breath, he knew that this was over. He couldn't deal with this level of insecurity from a woman whom had been committing adultery for the last two years. "You need to listen carefully," he said quietly, looking her directly in the eyes, "because I am only going to say this once. Emma is my neighbor and a _friend_. She came over to make sure that I didn't choke on my own vomit last night, which I didn't, thanks for your concern. I was out drinking with Graham, talking about _you_ , actually. And I have come to a decision that was not easy in the slightest."

"Don't do this, Killian," she interrupted, jaw clenched and fire burning in her eyes. "You know who I am and what influences I have. Do _not_ do what I think you are about to."

"Milah, we're done," Killian continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "I'm not happy any more, and I know you aren't either. You can go back to your husband and stop worrying about him tracking your cellphone and bank statements, and I can stop feeling guilty."

He honestly thought she was going to strike him. The rage building in her eyes almost had him cowering, but he stood his ground.

"You're going to regret this," she threatened before storming out of the apartment and slamming the door once more.

"No, I don't think I will," he said into the emptiness of the room. Taking out his phone, he called down to the front desk, leaving a message for Tiny that his locks needed changed as soon as possible before he collapsed on the couch.

Milah was his everything for so long, but now that she was gone, he felt light – like he could do anything in the world, be anything he wanted to be. This was his new start, and honestly, he was excited.


	4. Friendship, Fights, and Fearsome Meeting

The first six months in Boston flew by; Emma and Neal were settling in easily in their building, work was steady for the both of them, and they were currently discussing whether or not they should bring an animal into their lives. Neal was all for getting a kitten or puppy, claiming that they both needed something for when the other wasn't at home, but Emma was reluctant, her old fears of getting too attached to something and having it ripped away from her coming back in full force.

It was a wonder that she never felt that way with Neal; she was comfortable with him, and knew that he would be with her, no matter what happened between them. She was sure that they were soul mates, that they were meant to be together and against all odds, here they were.

It felt good to be happy and secure. Emma could get used to this.

Another perk in her life was her neighbor. She often met up with Killian for lunch on the days that they both had off, and she was quickly learning that she felt safe with him too. They had a kinship that came to them naturally, and she was glad that they came into each other's lives.

She was indeed very happy with her life, but there was another reason she didn't really want to get a pet. She knew that their lives were going to be crazy in just a short matter of months – about seven, to be exact. They didn't need something _else_ under foot.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

"Hey, Emma?" Neal called from in their bedroom. "Have you seen my wallet anywhere? I have a meeting with my editor today and it's my turn to buy lunch."

Emma rolled her eyes, immediately glancing to where he had left it the night before – in the dish where they put their keys. "Have you checked the entryway?" she asked. "You might have left it there when you got home last night."

Neal came out into the living room, a puzzled look on his face. "No, I don't think so," he said as he scratched his head, walking to the entryway. "Uh… Never mind. I found it."

Emma laughed and got up from her place in the kitchen, walking to his side. "I think we need to get you a chain," she teased. "Or maybe you should carry a man-purse with you so you don't lose it as easily."

Neal pressed a kiss to her forehead and stroked her hair out of her face. "What's got you so feisty today?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to his side. "Do you have another skip you're trying to butter me up for?"

"I would _never_ ," Emma said incredulously. "Okay, well maybe I would," she conceded, "but that's not what has me in a good mood."

"Are you going to clue me in on what's going down inside your head, babe?" Neal pulled back slightly to see her face, eyes twinkling.

"Tonight at dinner?" she asked, leaning in to press a kiss to his nose. "I'll make your favorite!"

Neal pretending to consider her offer for a minute before grinning and conceding to her plan. "Tonight at six?" he asked, grabbing his coat to leave for work. "I'll see you then. I love you, babe."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Emma opened Spotify on her phone to an album she had heard mention of while she was at work last week. It was decent, alternative rock, and it made a good soundtrack as she danced around her kitchen, preparing for her night with Neal.

She had been suspecting that something was amiss for a couple of weeks now, and she had taken a test while she was at work a few nights before that confirmed her suspicions – she was at least two months pregnant.

She should have been scared, but she wasn't alone any more. She had Neal, and she truly felt ready to start making their life together. A baby would just add to the love they had, and she could finally start moving on from her past. She was no longer the scared little girl that wondered why her parents left her on the side of the road when she was born, and she was going to start acting like it.

Around two in the afternoon, when she was chopping potatoes and creating a roux for her hearty homemade potato soup, she heard a knocking on the door. "It's unlocked!" she called, not wanting to pull herself away from the simmering onions and garlic.

"Hey, Swan," Killian said joyfully as he walked into the apartment. "I want you to meet someone."

"Give me one minute," she said as she finished off the roux and threw it, the chopped potatoes, and chicken stock into the crock pot to cook. "Okay," she said as she turned around. "Who did you – oh my God is that a puppy?"

Killian was kneeling in front of her holding a small ball of fluff on the ground, petting its ears. "Meet Texas," he said with a grin. "He's a labradoodle and he's about a month old."

"He's so _cute_ ," gushed Emma. "Where did you get him?"

"My friend Graham Humbert's dog just had puppies, and since things have been going back to normal since the Milah debacle, he decided that I needed some companionship in my life," Killian explained, watching Emma fawn over the dog with a smile on his face and a soft look in his eyes.

"I know Graham," she said, highly distracted by the ball of fluff in front of her. She was kneeling on the floor in front of Killian, arms full of dog hair and slobber. "I work with him a lot when I bring in skips."

"So what do you think, Swan? Should I keep him or kick him to the curb?" he had a teasing smile on his face when she looked up from his dog.

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to answer his dumb question. "Killian, he's great! I am so happy for you." She was looking him directly in the eyes when she felt it – her heart was fluttering and she felt the little nudge in her womb that she had been getting when Neal looked at her, his eyes full of love. She had to snap herself out of this. She was with Neal, they were starting a family (though he didn't exactly know that part yet), and she was _happy_. "Um," she said, blinking hard and shaking her head as she stood, "do you want something to drink? A beer, soda, water…?"

"I'm good," he declined, joining her in standing. "I just wanted to come over and show you my new little monster. I know that you and Neal have been talking about one, so you guys can come over and play with him whenever you want."

Emma smiled; he was so kind and generous. She was glad to have him in her life. "Thanks, Killian. Neal will be thrilled."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

The smell of potato soup filled the apartment when she lifted the lid of the crock pot to stir in the cream, cheese, and bacon bits. Any moment now Neal would be home, and she wanted everything to be perfect.

She turned the crock pot down to low, placed the lid back on, and left it to simmer as she got dressed. She pulled on a loose, gauzy dress that emphasized her figured, left her hair down in a mess of curls, and applied light makeup. She was signing along to her phone when she heard the door to the apartment opening, and she rushed out to greet her boyfriend with a kiss.

He was startled, for sure, when she rushed out into his arms, but wasn't upset. He placed a long, lingering kiss on her lips before putting his keys in the dish and hanging up his coat. "It's good to see you too," he joked, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Soup smells good, Emma. Thanks for this. It was a long day at work."

Emma grabbed his hand and led him to the table, practically forcing him into a seat as she brought out their dinner. She poured them both glasses of water, set out napkins and cutlery, then spooned out the soup, mindful of spilling.

"How does everything look?" she asked nervously.

Neal looked up from his soup with a grin as he grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him. "It looks great, Emma," he said, looking into her eyes. "Now why go to all this trouble? I didn't forget an anniversary or anything, did I?"

Emma shook her head, a careful smile playing on her lips. "I have news," she said evasively. "Good news, I hope. Do you want to wait until we finish dinner?"

Neal put down his spoon and turned his full attention to her. "Emma?" he questioned. "What's going on?"

She bit her lip, suddenly worried that he wouldn't be as excited as she was. "I'm pregnant," came the soft response.

The room was silent; you could hear the faint whining from Killian's apartment, signaling that he was having issues with his puppy already. Emma could barely stand the tension in the room, could barely meet Neal's eyes, when he took her chin and forced her to look at him.

"Are you serious, Emma? I'm going to be a dad?"

She nodded, pulling his gaze from hers and worrying her lip between her teeth. There was the briefest of pauses before she was pulled to her feet and into a colossal bear hug.

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, spinning her around in a circle before letting her feet touch the ground once more. "Emma, we're going to be _parents_!"

She laughed, tears of joy streaming from her eyes as she held on to Neal tightly. Yes, this is what she had been searching for.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Another month went by quickly; Neal took every opportunity he could to touch her belly, rub her feet, and make her comfortable. She was overcome most days with terrible morning sickness that left her hunched over the toilet for longer than she cared to admit, had a strong craving for lemonade and pizza, and was sickened by the smell of her favorite grilled cheese and onion rings. She felt better now that Neal changed his schedule so that he could go in to work in the afternoons, and she was trying to get as much work in as she could before her stomach started to show too much to be hidden underneath the skintight dresses she had taken to wearing when tailing a skip.

Neal wasn't comfortable with her going to work while she was pregnant; there were too many variables at stake and she didn't want Emma or their unborn child to come to harm. He even went so far as to ask Killian to check in on her when he wasn't at the fire station to make sure that she didn't need anything and that she wasn't putting too much stress on the baby. Killian joked around that Neal owed him for all of the "babysitting" he was doing, but she could tell that Neal was grateful that they had a paramedic living next door.

Emma didn't mind all of the time she was spending with their neighbor; he had quickly become her best friend and she genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. It also helped that he brought Texas with him all of the time and fawned over her growing belly. She didn't know who was more excited – Neal, Texas, or Killian. She was surrounded by hyperactive males; she was really hoping this baby would help even out the levels of testosterone and estrogen.

It was one of the rare days that Neal had off and they were spending it curled up on the couch, his hand rubbing small circles over the small roundness of her stomach. It was rare that they got to spend time like this – just being together, being _them_ – that neither of them wanted to move for risk of ruining the moment.

"Should we start working on the baby's room soon?" Emma asked softly. "So that the paint fumes are gone by the time the baby gets here?"

Neal hummed, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Don't you think we should figure out if we're having a son or daughter first?"

"Do you really want to spoil the surprise? It's one of the few things we can actually _be_ surprised about."

Sighing, Neal caved; he wanted to give her everything, and had quickly become a pushover. "Is that what you want, Ems?"

She turned slightly so that she could gaze into his eyes. "I think that if anything, it would be worth the wait," she said, smiling. "And just imagine hearing the words 'it's a boy' or 'it's a girl' for the first time when you get to actually _hold_ your baby."

She could tell that she had him hooked; it was so easy these days. It was excited how pumped he was to become a father. She knew that he would be amazing. Pressing a kiss to his lips, she molded her body to his; she was so greedy for touch these days.

A knock on the door startled them, and they fell apart with a groan as Neal called for their visitor to come in.

It was Killian.

"I am so sorry," he said, clearly in a rush, "but is there any way you could check in on Tex in a little while to make sure he gets fed? There's a huge fire and they've called in for backup on three different trucks. The station is severely understaffed and I need to get there as soon as possible."

"Of course, Killian," Emma said easily. "You go be a hero; Texas will be fine with us."

Killian smiled gratefully before turning and jogging back to their door, dropping his key, exiting, and shutting the door quickly behind him. Emma rolled her eyes – typical Killian.

"Now, where were we?" she asked Neal, pressing her lips to his once more.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

They woke up from their short nap to Texas barking from next door. Neal groaned, pressing Emma back down into the couch and telling her to get some more sleep, that she would need it for round two later. She grinned, still sated, and stretched languidly as he grabbed Killian's key and grinned, leaving the apartment.

 _Oh how I love that man,_ she thought as she got up from the couch to get ready to make them dinner. _I don't know what I would do without him._

She was slicing onions when she heard a crash from Killian's place, followed by barking and whining from Texas. Dropping the blade to the counter, she rushed out of her apartment, not bothering to shut the door behind her, and into her neighbor's. The door was ajar, which made her worry more.

Emma was met with a sight that will stay with her until the day she died: Neal, laying on the floor, blood pouring from his stomach.

"Neal!" she shrieked, dropping to her knees on the floor beside him. "No… no no no no. Neal, no," she begged, pulling his body into her lap, tear streaming down her face.


	5. Truth

"Jones, isn't this your address?" Whale asked as they suited up for their newest call. They had been coming in one after one, no reprieve for the exhausted paramedics. "I thought you were the only one that lived there?"

Killian looked at their newest call – while male, early thirties; gunshot wound in the chest. "I am. It's just me and… oh, shit. My neighbor. _Neal_."

The squad was in motion, running lights and sirens to Killian's apartment complex. He was praying that everything would be okay, praying that Neal would live through this (if it was actually Neal), and praying for Emma. _Oh my god,_ he thought, _Emma._ His heart ached as they raced to the scene, police hot on their tail. What had happened? Why was something going on at his apartment?

Nothing was making sense. Texas should have been fine for a few more hours, at least, so why was Neal in his apartment already? There was no reasonable explanation that Killian could come to, and it was worrying him as they sped towards his home.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

The door was ajar and Killian heard cries and barking from inside his apartment as he and his colleagues rushed in to provide aid. Neal was laying on Killian's apartment floor, his head and torso cradled in Emma's lap; she was bent over him to the point where they couldn't see where he was injured when they entered the apartment and Whale had to pull Emma away from her boyfriend so they could do their jobs.

Killian was the first one to Neal's side and the first one to notice that he was still breathing, if just barely. He signaled to the rest of his team for help in stopping the bleeding to get Neal stable when Neal (with a grip that surprised Killian) grabbed the front of Killian's uniform and pulled him close.

"Take care of her," Neal forced out, his voice weakened by the loss of blood. "You need to make sure that she and my child are okay."

"I need to make sure _you_ are okay," Killian insisted, putting pressure on the chest wound. Neal shook his head and pulled away. "You have to _fight_ , Neal. You can't just give up, _not on her_. Not on Emma."

Neal rolled his head to the side so that he could see his girlfriend being consoled by Whale, even as the police who had just arrived to the scene tried to question her. They were avoiding Neal for the time being – probably noting how his color resembled a ghost more than an actual _live_ human being. "I'm not giving up on her," he said quietly, "but I need to make sure that they have their best chance."

Killian nodded, understanding where his neighbor was coming from.

"Please?" Neal asked. "Take care of her?"

"Yes," Killian answered. He could feel Neal's life slipping between his fingers and knew that he could have done more, but the man had effectively refused care. "I promise."

With that, he could no longer feel a pulse.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

The next few weeks were hard for Killian and Emma – Neal had very little family, and when it came time for the funeral, there was no one aside from Killian to help her in her grief. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he almost preferred it this way. He had grown to care deeply for Emma, and he took the promise he made to Neal to heart. It was an adjustment for both of them, getting used to not having Neal there. Killian took it upon himself to make sure that Emma was getting everything she needed for the baby, including sleep, nutrients, and her late night cravings of hot chocolate with cinnamon and onion rings.

It wasn't perfect, not in the long run, but Killian was making it work – for the sake of Neal, Emma, and their unborn child. It was hard, though, with Killian feeling the way he did about Emma. Taking care of her was starting to make him feel like he was made to be at his side and that the baby making her demand all sorts of things at unholy hours of the night was _his_ child demanding to be loved and talked to.

She was four months along in her pregnancy now, and the baby was starting to show when she wore tighter clothes. This made her upset, which she tended to take out on Killian when he came over to help her set up the baby's room or make dinner.

"I hate this," she grumbled, "and I hate _you_."

"You don't mean that," he countered, rolling his eyes at the ceiling of the nursery and shaking his head. "You just hate not being able to do field work because they make you sit behind a desk."

" _You would too_!" the screwdriver she was holding out to him was thrown on the floor and tears filled her emerald eyes. "How would _you_ feel if you had to stay away from the field? How would _you_ feel sitting behind a desk when your boyfriend's killer still walks free among you? How would _you-_ "

Killian cut her off by placing removing himself from the floor in front of her and pulling her into a tight hug. He could feel the tears soaking through the shoulder of his shirt, but couldn't find any part of him that cared. Emma was _hurting_ , and if he could give her any peace of mind, he would do it in a heartbeat.

She pulled away from him after a long minute and he sighed, not quite ready to lose the contact he had with her, placing his right hand on the back of her neck and letting his left hand fall to her slightly rounded stomach.

"I know that things are bad right now," he said, looking into her watery eyes, "but we need to have faith that whoever did this to Neal will be caught and punished for their crime."

"How am I supposed to sit behind a desk when all I want to do is look for his killer? Graham won't let me see any of the files and it's _killing_ me inside to let them handle this."

"If anyone can find who did this, it's Graham, love."

She blinked back another round of tears before burying her face in his shoulder once again. "How am I supposed to take care of this baby, Killian? My income isn't enough, and I don't even think _I'm_ enough yet."

He lifted her head from his shoulder, sat down on the newly put together rocking chair, and pulled her so that she was standing between his legs and the baby was right in his line of sight. He had to lean his head back to see her face, but he needed her to see that he was there for her and the baby – see that he would never let them down. He placed his left hand on her stomach and rubbed small circles as a smile came over his face.

"I'm here, Emma," he said roughly, emotion clogging his voice. "I will be here until you and this babe are banishing me from your doorstep. I will help you in _any_ way that I can, even if it means helping you financially. _I don't care._ I will not let you or this baby starve." He paused for a moment and looked up at her; he could feel the fire burning in his eyes and could only imagine what he looked like to her. "As for you not knowing if you will be enough for your baby? Swan, I have yet to see you fail."

She didn't say a word to him, she just took her left hand and placed it over his where it lay on her stomach and smiled.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Another month passed without incident; there were no new leads on Neal's case and the baby was growing steadily and without any problems. Well, aside from the fact that Emma wanted to be surprised when she gave birth and Killian wanted to know so that he could finish decorating the nursery.

The only people amused by this ongoing argument were the nurse and the ultrasound technician when they went in for her five-month appointment.

Killian sat next to her as she lay on the table and had the goo spread over her rapidly-growing stomach, holding her hand loosely in his for support. "I think we should find out now so that I can go out shopping later, love," he urged softly, trying to change her stubborn mind. "I would like to know whether I should buy necessities in pink or blue for the babe."

"If we've had this conversation once, we've had it a thousand times, Killian," she turned her head to glare at him, "and my answer is still no."

Before Killian could get out his rebuttal, the tech rubbing the ultrasound gel on Emma's stomach paused and laughed. He shot her a confused look, peeved that she was not really helping his case in any way, shape, or form.

"Honey, all first-time parents have this argument around this point in the pregnancy," she explained to Killian's exasperated look and Emma's smug one. "The daddies are always the worst; you men need to know everything _right now_ and have no desire to let life take the wheel."

The exasperation was replaced by shock and slowly faded into a light blush. This wasn't the first time that he and Emma had been confused for being a couple, and most likely wouldn't be the last. He'd stopped correcting people, secretly pleased with them thinking that he and Emma were together, but the guilt was still there. Neal had only been gone for two months and here he was, seemingly making a family with his dead neighbor's girlfriend and child. And the worst part? He was _happy_ with the way his life was going.

Sitting there, in Emma's OB/GYN office, made him realize that he was in love with Emma Swan. He was in love with Emma and _wanted_ to take care of her – not just because Neal asked him to, but because he wanted to be there every morning when she woke up, he wanted to be there to feel the baby kicking her at all hours of the night, he wanted her sweet laugh to be something that _he_ made happen, and he wanted her to be happy with _him._

Killian felt his heart pounding in his chest and knew that he had let too much time pass since the technician made her comment; he could feel Emma's eyes trained on his face, so he forced a laugh.

"I guess that's true," he finally responded, avoiding the elephant in the room. Turning to Emma, he further pressed his case. "Are you _absolutely sure_ that you want to wait until the child's born, love? How are you going to think of names otherwise?"

Emma rolled her eyes, the tension leaving her shoulders. "I already have names picked out, you doof."

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"Why should I have?"

The tech chose that moment to interrupt the banter that seemed to happen so easily between them. "You mean you haven't told your boyfriend your name ideas?" the tech sounded extremely offended and Killian laughed.

"It's not like I really have a choice, love," he told her with a smile. "I'm just along for moral support."

The tech's eyes went wide; she capped the gel she was using on Emma and immediately changed the subject, ignoring Emma's laughter. "Well, let's see how this little peanut is doing."

The technician showed them the baby's heartbeat, where it was growing legs and fingers and toes, and was telling them that the baby was about the size of a mango and that the eyelids were finally opening. Killian felt Emma's hand tighten around his; he looked up and smiled at her, so proud of what she was creating.

"Are you sure that you don't want to find out if you're having a son or daughter?" he asked.

Emma shook her head and squeezed Killian's hand once more. "I think this baby is perfect, just as it is. I don't need to know. Not now, anyway."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Killian felt as though his heart was going to burst during that last appointment with Emma, and he could not be more glad that he was finally home. His apartment was quiet; he really wouldn't mind spending the extra time with Emma, but she was feeling worn down after seeing her baby and had decided to go back to her place and take a nap.

 _I hope she isn't burying herself in thoughts of Neal,_ he thought. He knew her habits, knew that days like these were the hardest for her to get through, and he didn't want her to have to face it alone. However, until she needed him, he decided to leave her to her own devices.

He had a list of other things that he needed to accomplish: he had _finally_ received the new locks for his apartment from Tiny, and he needed to install them even though he hadn't heard from Milah since they broke up over a year ago. He didn't trust her _or_ her husband, and he would feel safer once his new locks were in, especially if he planned on having Emma and her baby over often. He wanted them safe when they were with him.

He also had the final touches on a few surprises for Emma to complete; he had schemed with his friend David's (another paramedic) wife, Mary Margaret, to plan a baby shower, since Emma had no one to throw her one, and they were sending out the invitations to Emma's scarce group of friends later that evening. He had to finish his gift to her before the party, though. Even though Emma refused to find out what the gender of the child was, he had a gut feeling that the babe was going to be a boy and was building a pirate ship for the nursery in the free moments that he wasn't spending time with Emma.

He was in the middle of sewing sails to attach to the masts when he heard it – the metallic scrape of a key in the lock that he hadn't changed. He went still. He left Emma in her own apartment only an hour ago, and she had a tendency to forget that she had a key to his apartment since they spent most of her time in her apartment. Robin was out of town with Graham for the week, so it couldn't be either of them, which left only one remaining suspect.

Milah.

He was still frozen at his kitchen table, needle and mainsail still in hand, when she pushed open the door and walked into his life once more. She didn't see him right away; it gave Killian a moment to regain his composure and send a message to Emma.

 _15:38 Milah here. Not sure this will go well. Call David._

He finished typing the message and setting his phone to rest in his lap just as Milah realized he was in the room.

Her eyes widened as she took him in. "What are _you_ doing here?" she questioned, her voice more than a little surprised. "You aren't supposed to be here anymore!"

"What do you mean _I'm not supposed to be here_?" he fired back. "It's my bloody apartment! You're the one who isn't supposed to be here."

"No-" she was shaking her head back and forth in disbelief "-you're supposed to be dead."

This got his attention. He wasn't sure if Emma was awake or if she had gotten his text, so (without looking) he unlocked his phone, dialed 911, put it in his pocket, and stood up to move toward Milah so that the operator could hear everything going on.

"What do you mean I'm supposed to be dead?" he asked calmly, though his tone had darkened considerably.

"Two months ago I was told that the job was done and that you were dead," she barked at him, stepping closer to poke at his chest. "I was told that my revenge had been completed and that I would have nothing to worry about any more."

His eyes widened. _Neal,_ he thought. _She's the reason Neal's dead._ He could faintly hear the 911 operator saying that help was on the way and hoped that Milah wasn't able to pick up on that. He grabbed the finger poking him in the chest with his left hand, pulling it away from him.

"You mean you arranged for me to _die?_ Because I decided to _stop seeing a married woman?_ "

"You broke my heart," she spat out. "You made me go back to _him_ even though you _knew_ that I only had eyes for you. You deserved anything that would have happened."

"My neighbor and friend was killed because of you," he snarled. "A woman is left alone and pregnant because of your selfish act, and you think I would have _deserved_ to die?"

"I'm sure it put you right where you wanted to be!"

"And where is that, perchance?"

"Right in the arms of that blonde trollop of a neighbor of yours. I'm assuming that _she_ is the one that is left knocked up and alone? How convenient for you, Killian Jones."

"She is my friend-" he pulled back from her completely, stalling until the police arrived "- and you have no right to call her a trollop when you were leading two men along at the same time. How can I know that I'm the only other one that you were using to cheat on your husband? Hm?"

That seemed to make her snap; she lunged at him and had managed to wrap her slender fingers around his neck, just as the police broke through his door. Killian pulled her fingers from his throat as a police officer came to fasten the cuffs to her wrists.

"You're under arrest for admitting to hiring a hit man to kill the man standing in front of me," the officer said as she pulled Milah away from Killian. "You have the right to remain silent…"

The adrenaline of their fight was wearing off, and Killian dropped to the ground. There was an officer waiting to take his statement and David was standing off to the side, first aid kit in hand and paternal worry etched upon his face. He didn't care about any of that – not when Emma was falling down to the ground in front of him with tears in her eyes.

He reached out and ran his thumb under her lower lash line, catching the tears before they could fall down her lovely cheeks. "Don't cry," he whispered. "Everything is okay now. She can't hurt us. Not now."

Emma shook her head and threw herself into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her to him until he could feel her heartbeat start to match up with his own. Her tears were falling down the front of his shirt where she had buried her face and he began stroking her hair to try and calm her. He met David's eyes above her head and shook his own, warning him not to come closer just yet; he could take care of Emma.

"Is it okay if I come down to the station in about an hour to give my statement?" he asked the officer, nodding to the woman in his lap. "Just so we can get everything calmed down here?"

The officer smiled, nodded, and gestured for David to follow him out of the apartment. Killian turned his entire focus to Emma, still stroking her long, blonde hair.

"What can I do?" he asked softly.

"Just hold me," she answered, her tears slowing.

He couldn't tell how long they sat on the floor of his apartment, bodies entwined as Emma's sobs turned to hiccups. When they died down, he pulled away slightly so that he could look at her face. Her eyes were red, and her face was splotchy, but she had never looked more beautiful.

"How much did you hear?" he asked, trying not to bring her to tears again.

"She's the reason Neal's dead," she choked out.

Killian lowered his eyes to her chin, head falling slightly in guilt. " _I'm_ the reason he's dead. She wanted me dead and I asked him to watch my stupid dog."

Emma's head shot up, looking around for Texas. "Where is he?"

"With Robin and Graham on their hunting trip. He needed the exercise."

She cocked her head and pulled his eyes to meet hers once more. "It's not your fault, Killian," came her soft voice as their eyes locked. "It's Milah's fault." He started to shake his head, but she grabbed his face in her hands and held it still.

Killian let his head fall to her shoulder, the day washing over him. "Aye, I guess it is."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

The interview at the police station went by quickly; the operator had heard Milah confess and the officers walked in on her attempt to choke the life out of him. Through the entire thing, however, Emma stayed by his side, holding his hand tightly within her own.

Killian took her out to Granny's for dinner after they were done at the station; they both needed some comfort food. She had finally stopped getting sick at the smell of grilled cheese and onion rings, so he ordered a plate for both of them and a chocolate milkshake to share, that would really end up being hers by the end of the meal.

 _God, the love I feel for this woman!_ he thought as he watched her rip apart the buttery, cheesy sandwich. _She is my moon and my stars, my everything. I don't know what I would do without her or the babe._

"Killian?" she kicked him under the table, jolting him from his thoughts. "Did you hear a word I just said?"

He shook his head and blushed, "no, love. I'm sorry. I don't know where my mind went for a minute there."

"That's okay," she said with a slight smile, "as I was only saying about how I called my OB/GYN after we got home from the appointment today and found out the sex."

He could see the excitement in her eyes mirrored the excitement he was feeling at that very moment. "Really?" he asked with glee. "Can I know?"

She seemed to consider for a brief moment before grinning and bringing a moment of pure light into his life. "It's a boy," she said, dropping her hand and gaze to her stomach. "Henry Neal Swan."


	6. Everything Feels Right

"Hey, Killian?" Emma called into her apartment. She was currently sitting on the floor of Henry's nursery, her seven-months-pregnant stomach making it difficult to move around on her own. "Can you please come help me for a moment?"

She heard him place something (hopefully food) on her kitchen counter and waited patiently, reaching out her arms to him as he walked into the nursery. He rolled his eyes, having become too used to helping Emma out of couches, off the floor, or even in and out of the car.

"What are you going to do at the end of your pregnancy, Swan?" he teased. "We might just have to roll you everywhere you need to be."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Very funny, Killian. Don't you know it's not nice to make fun of pregnant women?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't tease _you_." He grabbed her hands and braced himself on the floor to get her out of her position on the floor, Emma groaning at the motion.

"I can't wait until he's born," she grumbled. "Maybe then I'll be able to sit without feeling like I'm a beluga whale."

"At least you have a place to rest your snacks?"

Shooting a glare at him, Emma punched Killian in the arm. "Watch it, mister, or I won't share any of those snacks with you the next time you decide to watch a movie over here."

Killian shot her his best puppy dog look – one of these days, she knew she would cave to anything he asked of her, but today was not that day. Not when her son was kicking up a storm and making her _crave_ all sorts of things.

Henry made a well-timed kick to her bladder then and Emma grabbed Killian's hand, pressing it to the spot of her stomach where Henry's foot was still moving. "Do you feel him?" she asked softy.

"Aye," awe filled his voice as he stroked gently over the swell of her stomach. He crouched down then, stopping when his eyes were at the same level as her stomach, and stilled his hand. "Hello there, little lad," Killian said gently. "What do you say we stop making your mum miserable, eh?"

Emma couldn't believe how much this man cared about her and her son – he was there for late night cravings and foot rubs after she's had a long day of work. He takes her to the park with Texas so that she can stretch her legs and ease the tension in her lower back. It felt too soon, especially after losing Neal and dealing with the arrest of his murderer, but she felt herself falling in love with Killian Jones. When he was with her, she felt _whole_ , like she and Henry had nothing to worry about in the world.

Meeting his eyes as he murmured to her child, Emma felt herself smile, if just a little bit. Maybe, just maybe, this man felt the same way about her that she did for him.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

She had just gotten out of a meeting with a few members of the police force, and she was _exhausted_. She had gotten approved for her two months of paid maternity leave, but she had to fight tooth and nail to use her two weeks of saved vacation time so that she didn't have to leave her son right away. In the end, they hadn't approved the vacation time, but had made a deal with her – if she would track skips from her apartment and turn the information over to the department, she could take an extra month off from actually coming in to work.

She was tired, she was hungry, and she was more than a little bit cranky. Her plan included sitting on her couch with a bag of Doritos and watching reruns of a medical show about a cranky, drug addicted doctor, but apparently Killian had other ideas.

"Swan!" he pestered, poking at her side on the couch. "Go get ready! We're going out."

"I'm not moving, Jones. Make me."

"Don't make me get out the secret weapon, Swan," he threatened.

She was unimpressed and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Like you have a 'secret weapon' over me, Killian. I know all of your little tricks."

That made him grin evilly. She gulped, not liking the direction this was going.

He slowly leaned into her space, making her shrink back as well as she could into the couch cushions until she ran out of space. His expression grew more teasing as the distance between them decreased – before he dropped his fingers to her side and started tickling the life out of her.

 _Damn him_ , she thought as she laughed uncontrollably. _When did he learn how ticklish her sides were?_ She was laughing so hardly that she could barely catch her breath; Killian was laughing right along with her, fingers dancing over her ribcage and stomach.

He paused, considering her as she caught her breath. "Ready to concede?"

She held up her hands in defeat, struggling to pull herself up and out of the cushions so that she could do as he asked and rid herself of her sweats and oversized tee-shirt – her preferred ensemble when she had nowhere to be.

"What should I be wearing on this mystery excursion?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow again. "Or am I supposed to guess on that, too?"

"Nice jeans and a nice top, Emma," he said with a smile. "And make sure you're comfortable in whatever shoes you choose. We'll be at this location for quite some time."

Sighing, she made her way into the master suite of her apartment to change her clothes. Damn that man.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

"Surprise!" came a cry from the unfamiliar apartment as she and Killian walked in the door. A petite brunette came forward from the rest of the group, smiling broadly. "Happy baby shower, Emma!"

She was overwhelmed; no one had ever done something like this for her before. Turning to Killian, she asked, "did you do this?"

He grinned as he took her arm and led her to a comfortable, overstuffed couch in the middle of the living space. "I've had it planned for a few months now," he admitted, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Mary Margaret helped." With that, he gestured to the petite brunette who had spoken before.

"I don't know any of these people, Killian," she whispered, slightly panicked; she wasn't used to the attention. "Why would they do this for me?"

Killian just smiled before turning to the rest of the group who had settled before them. Maybe she did recognize a few of them, after all.

"You already know Graham and Ruby," he said, starting to make his way around the semicircle with introductions. He pointed to the woman, Mary Margaret and the man sitting next to her. "They are the owners of this apartment, and good friends of mine, David and Mary Margaret Nolan. David's a paramedic like I am, and Mary Margaret is a schoolteacher."

She nodded, thankful for his explanations, and hoped that her pregnancy brain allowed her to remember all of the names and faces of the people before her.

He gestured to a man, slightly off putting, with short, blond hair. "This is Victor Whale, another paramedic." Next came a petite blonde with her hair in a messy bun, a tall, slender blonde with hair in a perfect braid, and another couple – this time a redhead and a surly-looking blond man. "And here we have Christina Bell, but she prefers to be known as Tink, Elsa Arendelle and her sister, Anna. Next to Anna is her husband, Kristoff."

Emma smiled slightly at each new face, still not knowing why all of these virtual strangers would throw her a baby shower. "It's nice to meet you all," she said, her uncertainty coloring her tone. "But I still don't understand-"

"We're here because Killian is basically our family," Mary Margaret said, a smile on her perfect face, "and he never shuts up about how wonderful you are. We heard about everything that's happened, and we wanted to make sure that you and your baby have everything you need."

Her eyes filled with tears as she turned to Killian and wrapped him in her arms the best she could, her stomach making it difficult to get close to him. "Thank you," she whispered roughly. "For everything."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Mary Margaret planned the shower to be an instant hit; there was plenty of good, homemade food, silly games that involved taking away necklaces with diaper pins on them if the word "baby" was mentioned or wrapping diapers on bags of flour. Emma had never felt more at ease with a group of people in her life. They were still virtually strangers, but she felt herself opening up more than she had in the past.

After the games, Mary Margaret gestured for Killian and David to bring in presents – another thing that Emma wasn't expecting from the day.

"You guys really didn't have to do any of this," she protested.

Tink and Elsa shut her up with a glare as they settled her down and placed carefully wrapped boxes around her feet. Emma rolled her eyes and took the one they were holding out for her, tearing into the paper like a woman possessed.

It took the better portion of an hour with Killian taking down names and the items she received so that she could send out thank you notes, but she felt like she was set for when Henry arrived: she had been given a box of diapers in varying sizes from every person who had attended; a set of pacifiers, bibs, rattles, and onesies from Graham and Ruby; a diaper bag loaded with wipes, burp cloths, bottles, a breast pump, and a bottle brush from Mary Margaret and David; a few novelty baby items, including a mustache pacifier and a pirate onesie from Victor; Tink had gifted her a beautiful, handmade quilt that depicted swans swimming around a lake; Elsa gave her plenty of onesies and little outfits to tide her through the winter that was coming; and Anna and Kristoff gave her a bassinet that converted into a car seat and a stroller.

She was overwhelmed, to say the least.

Killian cleared his throat from his position beside her. She turned to face him, and he was holding a medium-sized box wrapped in "Jake and the Neverland Pirates" wrapping paper. Emma took it from him and placed it in her lap, confusion crossing her face. Hadn't he done enough for her already?

Carefully, she tore the paper from the box, opening the lid and pulling out the contents – a hand-carved pirate ship.

"Killian," she said breathlessly. "Did you _make_ this? For _me?_ "

"Well, technically, it's for the lad," he teased, rubbing his left hand over his neck. "Do you like it?"

A grin broke out on her face, and before she really knew what she was doing, she was in Killian's space, kissing him deeply.

They broke apart when they began to hear tittering from the rest of the party; both of their faces were red-hot with blush, and she couldn't help but smile at how adorable he was sitting there.

"Thank you," she said before placing another kiss to his lips, this time brief and chaste. "For everything."


	7. I Love Yous and Happy Endings

"Thank you," Emma said as she placed her lips on his, keeping the kiss brief and chaste. "For everything."

Killian couldn't believe that this was _finally_ happening; his love, _his Emma_ was finally in his arms and kissing his lips. He had been waiting for this from the second he first laid eyes on her, and now, she was with _him._

He was stunned when they finally broke away from each other, his hand cupping her cheek and their foreheads pressed closely together. " _Emma_ ," he whispered.

"I've waited a long time to do that," she admitted as she closed her eyes. He couldn't keep the grin from his face, and he kissed her again. "Killian?"

He hummed and pressed their lips together again. He would never get tired of kissing her.

"Killian, stop." She pulled away from him and he whined at the loss. "We are still at a party, you know. The one that _you_ helped plan. For my _child._ "

"Yeah," David spoke teasingly from the group that surrounded them, "some of us don't need to watch the first five minutes of every porn ever made."

"David!" Mary Margaret admonished. "Is that even remotely appropriate?"

Killian grinned, waving the pair off. "You're right, mate. I apologize for making the situation… _indecent._ "

Emma rolled her eyes and moved so that she and Killian were side by side instead of on top of each other. Frowning at the loss of contact, Killian grasped her hand between both of his.

"Thank you so much," said Emma, "for all of this. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

Elsa and Mary Margaret had matching smiles, and Killian felt his heart swell. These people were his family, and he was so glad that Emma felt comfortable here. When she yawned, her grip tightening on his hand for just a moment, he knew that they would have to be going soon. They had been here, in Mary Margaret and David's apartment, for a few hours now and he knew that she grew tired easily now that she was so far along in her pregnancy. Gently, he stroked his thumbs along the lines of her hands, pulling her attention back to him. She smiled, a barely there curve of her lips, and leaned back into him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

"Are you about ready to go?" he whispered in her ear, taking the time to kiss her temple.

Emma nodded and shot him a grateful look. "Whenever you are."

Killian pulled away from her and stood, ready to bid farewell to his friends. Emma seized the same opportunity for closeness that he had and held on tightly to his hand, standing as he stood.

"We're sorry to be leaving so early-" Killian tried to excuse himself and Emma, but David shot him a look, "- okay, maybe not that sorry. However, this one is carrying a little energy sucker and I should probably get her home so she can go to bed."

"Yeah, to _bed_." Killian heard Victor's mumbled comment made to Kristoff and he shook his head. Why did his friends always have their minds firmly in the gutter?

They made their way around the room while saying their goodbyes, David and Mary Margaret following behind them and gathering up gifts for them to take back to Emma's apartment. He had to let go of Emma's hand so that he could help David with a few of the larger boxes, and Emma took the time to wrap Mary Margaret in a hug, murmuring something in her ear, broad smiles plastered on both of their faces.

 _Yes_ , Killian thought as he and David loaded the presents into a small wagon, _this is what I want my life to be like from now on._

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

They stayed silent on the ride home, Emma's left hand still firmly grasping Killian's right, and for once, Killian wasn't afraid about what was going to happen. He knew that what he had, right here, with Emma was real and that she could be his happily ever after. He just had to hope that she felt the same way that he did.

He chanced a look at her while they were stopped at a red light – God, was she beautiful. Killian knew that if he had his way, he would never have to look at another woman again in his life. She smiled and Kilian brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her cracked knuckles; he couldn't do more now, but he was determined to show her just how much he cared for her… just how much he loved her.

There was a honk behind him and Killian realized that he had been caught up in staring at Swan; the light had turned green and had probably been that way for a few moments now. He coughed awkwardly as he moved his foot to the gas pedal and continued on to their apartment complex.

Killian needed to talk to Emma about their feelings for each other – sooner rather than later.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

"Penny for your thoughts?" They were putting away all of the gifts that Emma had received that afternoon, Killian's job being to make sure that everything in the nursery was organized so that Emma could find what she needed at a moment's notice. He was having a hard time with all of the diapers she had received and was trying to place them in order of size.

He cocked his head; he heard her voice but hadn't really caught her question. "What was that, love? Sorry, this bloody pack of nappies doesn't have a clearly marked size and it's frustrating."

"I just asked what was on your mind. You've seemed distant since we got home from the party."

"Home?"

"Well… yeah. Home."

Glancing up from the cabinet holding the diapers, Killian met her eyes. They were clear and honest – something he had never really gotten when he was in the relationship with Milah. His eyes darted across her face, searching for an answer to the unspoken question that he _knew_ was written across his face.

Emma's eyebrows bunched. "Killian, you know what you mean to me," she started uneasily; maybe he hadn't been as clear as he thought with his affections.

"Actually, love, I was hoping that we could talk about that," he admitted.

He closed the cabinet he had been working on and turned away from it, gesturing for her to sit down with him. She obliged, even though it was hard for her to get up and down, and Killian took her hands in his. When his eyes met hers once again, he tried to put the amount of love he felt for her into his gaze.

"I know that things are complicated between us," Killian started, temporarily removing his left hand from her right so that he could brush a piece of hair from her face, "what with Neal's passing and Milah's treachery, but there's something between us, Emma. I know you feel it too."

"I do, Killian." Her voice was shaking and she had to pause before finishing her thought. "A part of me will always love Neal-" her eyes filled with tears "-and I don't want to forget about the life we shared with each other."

"You know that I would never make you forget him."

"Yes, I know that. Especially with Henry on the way. Neal wanted to know _so badly_ when I told him I was pregnant – he wanted to know if he was going to have a son or a daughter so that we could work on the room. And I told him to wait."

Killian knew where she was going with this, but he didn't want to interrupt her – here he was, sitting on the floor of the nursery that _he_ had helped put together because the father of the baby was dead because of _his_ psychotic ex. It was natural to fall into the role of father and provider, even if he and Emma were only friends, and he had _never_ realized how much this weighed on her.

She had taken a deep breath while he was lost in thought – he was brought back to her by her shaky exhale. "I guess that I feel guilty," she admitted. "Neal would have been a fantastic father, but he'll never get a chance to meet his son."

"Emma, there is nothing you could have done to help him," Killian stressed, gripping her hands tighter in his. "Neal knew. He knew when we got called to my apartment that he wasn't going to make it out of there alive. He… he made me promise him something, actually."

"What was that?" she whispered.

"He made me promise that I would take care of you. He loved you, Emma. You and Henry, even if he never got a chance to hold Henry in his arms."

Emma let out a sob upon hearing his promise and climbed into Killian's lap, wrapping herself tightly around him; he pulled her as close as he could, resting his chin on her forehead. How many nights had she cried in his arms about the death of her boyfriend? How many times had he reassured her that she would be a fantastic mother, even without Neal at her side? Infinite times and he had never seen her as shaken as she was right then. He gently ran the fingers of his right hand through her long, blonde locks, pausing each time his fingers ran down her neck to rub small circles in her skin.

"He wanted you and Henry to have your best chance," he murmured into the hair at the top of her head.

He couldn't tell you how long they sat on the floor of Henry's nursery, curled up together in a tight little mass of limbs that just felt _right_ , but he could tell you that he held her until her sobs ceased to mere sniffles and her breathing slowed down to a normal rate. And he kept holding her, even when she was calmed down, because he knew that's what they both needed.

Emma was the one to finally break the spell they were under. "I don't want to forget him." Her voice was choked from the tears she had shed. "But, I want to give _us_ a chance, too. He would want me and Henry to be happy, right?"

"Aye."

"You make me happy, Killian, and I know that you make Henry happy too. He gets really still when you talk, almost like he's trying to take in every word you say. And when we end up curled together on the couch, I always feel him shift and it's _always_ to whatever side you happen to be sitting on."

Killian pulled away, amazed. "You can't be serious, love."

Instead of answering, she placed his hands on her stomach and shifted so that she was seated next to him instead of in his lap. The blood rushed to his legs – he hadn't even realized they had fallen asleep – but that wasn't what was holding his attention.

She was right. When she moved away, there was a pause before Henry moved inside of her so that he was pressed against the side he was sitting on.

"That is a bloody wonder, Emma," he breathed, rubbing his hands on her stomach gently. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the part of her where Henry was before whispering to him. "Hello, little lad. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I think he loves you already," she whispered. "And I think that I do too."

His head shot up. He was not expecting this, not today at least.

His expression made hers turn to worry, and he could tell she was starting to retreat behind her walls again. "No, no, don't worry, love," he reassured her. "I was just surprised. I thought I was the only one who felt this way."

"Do you mean…?"

"Aye. I love you too, Emma Swan."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

The next two months, the final two of Emma's pregnancy, flew by in a blur. They spent their days cuddled together in her apartment as the weather grew colder, Texas curled up at their feet in quiet contentment. It seemed that Killian and Texas didn't spend very much time at his apartment any more, but he didn't want to rush and mess things up with Emma. He was quite happy to spend his days with her wrapped up in his arms or taking her for lunch in between his shifts at the fire station or rubbing her feet or reading quietly to her and Henry as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

This was honestly the happiest he's been since before he met Milah at that bar all of those years ago, and he was pretty sure that Emma was feeling the same way.

They had yet to do more than a little heavy kissing; Emma's pregnancy made her resistant to most touch at any given day and he was a gentleman, after all. He wasn't going to force her to do anything more intimate than what they had, and she had thanked him for it over and over again.

Until Henry was a week overdue.

" _Killian_ ," whined Emma from the living area.

He was in the kitchen making lunch for the pair of them, which was a treat since he was currently taking as many shifts at the station as possible so that he could be with Emma at a moment's notice when Henry decided to make his grand entrance into the world. "Yes, my love?" he called, not taking his attentions from the grilled ham and cheese sizzling away in the skillet.

"I _need_ you. Like right now."

"Well, I can come and rub your feet in a minute. Just let me finish lunch, okay? Can't let you and the babe go hungry, now can I?"

The apartment was nearly silent; all he could hear was the faint sound of the Talking Heads coming from the speakers of his phone and Texas's heavy panting from the entryway. He moved to poke his head out of the kitchen to check on Emma, but she beat him to it – she had somehow moved to quietly stand about a foot behind him, scaring the piss out of him and almost making him jump backwards into the hot stove.

"Bloody hell, woman, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He could smell the sandwich on the stove, meaning that it was time to bring it from the heat, and he turned to flip it out of the pan and onto a plate. "One ham and cheese a la Killian for your dining pleasure, madam," he teased with a grin, turning back to her.

She took the plate from him and put it on the counter next to the stove before she wrapped her arms the best she could around Killian's waist and crushing their lips together in a passionate kiss. She didn't waste any time; as soon as he got over the shock of her kiss and had a hand at the small of her back (the other one absentmindedly rubbing circles on her stomach), she moved her hands so that the right was twisted into the short hairs at the base of his neck and her left was raking through the chest hair poking out of his unbuttoned shirt.

Killian had to pull away to breathe. _Where did this come from?_ he thought as he pressed their foreheads together, both panting wildly.

"That was-"

"Intense." She finished his sentence easily. "I _told you_ , I needed you."

Killian started laughing, feeling a bit ridiculous. "I thought you wanted a foot rub and a sandwich," he teased. "That's what you _needed_ about twenty minutes ago, anyway."

There was a fire clearly burning in her eyes; it was the only warning she got before her lips were attached to his again. There was no innocent fumbling here, only an intense, raw surge of _want_ and _passion_ and _love._

 _Love. She was trying to make love to him._ His revelation hit him like a ton of bricks to the face, and he felt his stomach drop like a lead balloon. He was aroused – how could he not be when she was pawing at him and grinding against him the best she was able to?

He pulled away from her reluctantly, and Emma narrowed her eyes briefly before trying to kiss him again.

"What are you doing, love?"

"Well I'm _trying_ to get my boyfriend to pay attention to me, but he keeps insisting on _talking._ "

Heaving a great sigh, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached back so he could hand her the grilled cheese. "Why don't we eat some lunch, darling?"

Emma's face contorted in confusion and pain before her eyes filled to the brim with tears and she turned away from him.

"I knew you wouldn't want me," she whimpered. She was wrapping her arms tightly below her chest in the small crevice of space Henry wasn't using as temporary living. "I knew you wouldn't want to be with someone as _disgusting_ as me."

Killian hadn't thought about the aspect of rejection. Her hormones were on a delicate ledge this week in particular since Henry was refusing to come meet his mom. He left her lunch sitting by the stove and walked to her front, lifting her face to meet his.

"What makes you think I wouldn't want you?" His tone was gentle and comforting as he grabbed her hand and led it to the evidence of his slowly flagging arousal. "Would _this_ happen if I didn't want you?"

"Then why won't you have sex with me?" She was on the verge of hysterics; he sighed and linked his fingers with hers, leading her out of the kitchen and onto her comfy couch where he pulled her into his lap. "Hell, Killian, we barely even get to second base anymore!"

"I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to, Emma," Killian said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, and I noticed that you didn't want to be touched as often these last few weeks, so I kept my hands to myself. You know that. I would _never_ expect you to do anything with me that you didn't want to, my love."

"What if I want to?"

"Swan, you're a week overdue. Do you really think that _now_ is the best time to start having a more… physical… relationship?"

Emma sighed and rolled her eyes. "Sex induces labor, Killian."

His eyes widened and he could feel his face turning bright red. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Do you…" he started rubbing the skin behind his ear. "I mean, do you really want our first time together to be because you want to have a baby?"

"That's usually a good reason why couples have sex, Killian," Emma deadpanned.

"You know what I meant."

Sighing again, Emma nestled her head into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath. Killian took the opportunity to bury his face in her hair and press small kisses to her scalp. "I just… I'm worried, Killian. What if something is wrong with him?"

"We just talked to the doctor yesterday, Emma. There is nothing wrong with your amazing little boy."

"I'll just feel better when he's _here_ and we can hold him to our hearts' content."

Killian chuckled, making her hair come up to tickle at his nose. "What are some other ways we can get this little man to introduce himself?"

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Three days later, Killian found himself walking hand in hand with Emma through the cluttered aisles of their grocery store, on the hunt for Rocky Road ice cream, Cool Ranch Doritos, and Colby string cheese. Killian would never get over how great it felt to be able to show the world how much he cared about this woman. It had been a great day so far; they had taken Texas to the park for a sunrise walk, even though their noses were red and protesting the cold, and then, they went to visit Mary Margaret and David, who were amazed that Henry hadn't come into the world kicking and screaming by now.

After they had left the Nolan's apartment, and even though they had been fed _extremely_ well, Emma claimed that she was _famished_. Thus began their noble quest to find ice cream, chips, and cheese; Killian thought it was a horrible combination and refuse to touch anything she ate with a ten foot pole, but who was he to judge what the love of his life was craving?

They were walking slowly up and down every aisle. In no rush to get home, Killian and Emma were enjoying this simple domestic act and took advantage of it by pressing kisses to cheeks, lips, foreheads, and hands at any chance they got, giggling like a pair of high school sweethearts who just found out that they were going to the same college after graduation. Maybe they should have been more attentive.

Maybe they wouldn't have literally run into Milah's husband, Robert.

"Well, what do we have here, dearie?" the snide little voice sang out, looking menacing against the backdrop that was the freezer section. "If it isn't the reason I have to visit the prison twice a week to see my wife."

Killian tensed and felt Emma's hand squeeze his in reassurance. "Gold," he said. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Gold's eyes narrowed in anger and Killian put Emma behind himself, jaw clenching. Gold ignored the question, choosing instead to move so Emma was in his line of sight at all costs, no matter how hand Killian tried to prevent it. She raised a hand and smoothed it down Killian's arm, and he felt calmed for a moment.

He wasn't going to let anything happen to her or Henry.

"This must be the little tramp that made you break my Milah's heart," he spat. "Nowhere near the beauty of your last fuck toy, is she Jones? Or should I call you _pirate_? You do seem to have a proclivity for stealing the belongings of others. Didn't this-" he waved a dismissive hand to Emma, eyes still fixed directly on Killian's, "- belong to that man my wife was sent to jail for murdering?"

Killian felt his face burn with white-hot anger. "Don't talk about her that way," he growled, circling so that he and Emma had their backs to the freezer; Gold couldn't get to her that way. Not without severely hurting him in the process.

"Killian, we don't have to do this," Emma urged, whispering in his ear. "We can leave. We don't have to get groceries right now."

"Listen to your whore, dearie." Gold was clearly enjoying this, and Killian couldn't help himself – he lunged, falling to the floor in a heap when Gold stepped out of the way in a nick of time. "Oh, look," he taunted, "the tramp has a little bastard growing inside her. Is it yours, _pirate_? Did you fuck her while you were fucking my Milah?"

There was nothing Killian could do to stop the taunts. He knew that noting serious would come of this meaning; the man was a coward. Even so, he felt himself panicking and looking to Emma in reassurance.

She was using Gold's moment of distraction to tap away on her phone. The look she sent him made him hopeful; she had done the same thing he had and dialed the police, not bothering to talk into the receiver but letting the conversation show what was really happening.

"Milah and I had a deal, you see," Gold kept poking at Killian's metaphorical wounds, wounds he had thought had healed over. "She got to fuck you whenever her heart desired, as long as she came home to _me_ and cared for _our house_ and _our child_."

Killian tensed; he had never known that Milah had a child. He would never take a mother away from their baby.

"I take it you didn't know about Bae?" Gold asked with a manic glint in his eye. "Oh, how I should have _killed_ you when you first proposed she leave our little family for your sad, pathetic home. I should have killed you when you broke her heart. And now, I'm going to do much worse."

There was tense silence between them for a few moments, and Killian's heart was beating loudly in his chest.

"I'm going to rip your heart out."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

He didn't remember what happened after he lunged at Gold; it was all a blur of fury, pain, and a need to protect the love of his life.

 _And their unborn child_ , his mind so helpfully supplied. No, not his child, but he would love Henry as if they were truly blood relatives. _But you wish he were yours._ His mind wouldn't shut up and he didn't know where he was. He didn't know where Emma was and he was afraid – for her and for Henry.

Thoughts swam through Killian's head like a school of fish: they were jumbled together, swirling fast, and he couldn't pick the beginning of one from the end of another.

He had to find Emma.

He just had to.

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

"Killian?"

He opened his eyes and he could have sworn an angel was gazing down at him. Then he registered the pain in his head and winced. He struggled to pull himself to a seated position as the flaxen haired angel was pushing against his shoulders to prevent the motion.

"Killian, you can't get up yet. You hit your head; David's going to check you out and make sure that you don't have a concussion."

His vision swam and he rubbed his eyes before opening them again. "Emma," he sighed, "you're really here?"

"Why wouldn't I be here?" She furrowed her eyebrows and settled herself into a more comfortable position at his side. "I love you, you silly man. I'll be here for as long as you'll have me."

He finally figured out that they were still in the freezer aisle at the grocery store and he ran his hand over his face and through his hair, wincing when he hit a tender spot. "Because Gold… he tried to hurt you, love."

"After you jumped at him, the police came. Apparently I wasn't the only one to call; one of the cashiers was restocking shelves and heard what was going on so he called the police. He didn't get a chance to hurt me, or Henry." She smiled and ran her hands through his hair gently.

David came over to check Killian out, pronouncing him a dumbass for charging at Gold, but assuring him that there was no sign of a concussion. Killian slowly stood up, knowing to be wary of the change in blood pressure when standing up too fast, especially after a head injury, and leaned over to help Emma from the floor. She was overdue by almost two weeks; she really shouldn't have been sitting on the floor with him for as long as she did.

Emma was on her feet, wrapped in Killian's arms, when it happened. Groaning in pain and curling in on herself, she looked down at the floor before meeting Killian's eyes, her expression terrified.

"Killian," she said breathlessly, "my water just broke. Henry's on his way."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

Killian and Emma sat in the quiet hospital room – Emma was sitting forward on her bed, Killian sitting behind her, with their legs intertwined.

They had been at the hospital for over nineteen hours, with Emma in active labor for almost eighteen. Killian was sure that there were some slight fractures in his hand, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was able to help his love through one of the most painful things she would ever have to experience, and it was worth every bone-crushing, profanity-spewing moment.

After nine and a half months of pregnancy, Emma gave birth to Henry Neal Swan on November 18th at 4:57 in the morning, a healthy nine pounds and seven ounces, and twenty-one inches long.

They sat curled together on the bed, Henry nestled in his mother's arms fast asleep. He could tell that Emma was almost there; she had been awake for over twenty-four hours and it had been a trying day. Killian was honestly surprised that she was still awake after she fed Henry for the first time.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and placed a kiss on her bared shoulder, thanking his lucky stars that he was able to be here, his love in his arms, and a beautiful baby boy in his life.

"What are you thinking about?" The whisper came out of nowhere; they had been sitting in companionable silence for almost an hour now, content to bask in the wonder that was Henry.

"About you and the lad," he answered honestly. "You're really all I ever think about these days, love."

Emma tilted her head back and caught his mouth in an awkward kiss. "I love you, Killian Jones."

"And I you, Emma Swan."

CS*CS*CS*CS*CS*CS

*One Year Later*

"Killian!" Emma called into their shared apartment, tripping over Texas on her way to the kitchen. "Have you seen the candles?"

"I'm right here, love. No need to shout." His face was twisted in his typical smirk and Henry was balanced carefully on his hip. "And, you left the candles, balloons, and other decorations over at David's. Where we were supposed to be about twenty minutes ago."

Emma rolled her eyes and Killian pressed into her space, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

"We'll never get there if you keep that up," she teased. "How would you feel if you made _your son_ miss his own birthday party?"

"I would tell him that he's lucky his parents love each other, and that he will never remember it anyway."

"I guess you're right." She sighed and placed a careful kiss on Henry's forehead. "However, how would you explain our disappearance to Mary Margaret?"

Killian gulped and shifted Henry to Emma's arms, rushing off to grab their presents to their son and locking Texas in his cage.

"What are you waiting for, love? We have a party to get to!"


	8. Moments

**May; 2 years old**

"Dada?" Henry's muffled voice came from behind him, along with the feeling of his shirt being pulled by a small hand. "What'cha doin'?"

Killian was sitting at their kitchen table, browsing through real estate ads and bookmarking the ones that he thought that Emma would like. They had been looking for a small house, preferably with space for Henry and Texas to run around outside, for a few months now. They were starting to feel how cramped their apartment was with the two of them, Henry, and Texas all trying to take up the same space. It just wasn't working for their little family any more.

He turned around and pulled Henry into his lap; the two year old had his thumb in his mouth now, but was still smiling broadly.

"Well, son," Killian said, "I'm looking at pictures of houses and trying to see which ones Mama would like best."

"Why you lookin' at houses, Dada? We has a house now!" Henry pulled his thumb out of his mouth for the few moments it took to speak, and then forced it back between his lips. "Does Tekas need a house, too?"

Killian laughed and pulled Henry closer into his chest. He dropped a kiss to his son's forehead and thanked his lucky stars that he was able to have this life.

"Not just Texas, buddy," he said with another laugh. "Mama and I are looking for a bigger house so that we have more room. Maybe a big backyard for you to play with Texas in, if you would want that."

"Dada?"

"Yes, buddy?"

"Can I has a swing?"

"We'll see what we can do, bud. I promise."

 **July; 2 years old**

It was six in the morning, the morning after they had moved into their new house, when Henry crawled into bed with Killian and Emma and started whispering for Killian to get up.

"Dada," he said with a sense of urgency. "Dada, you have to get up now."

Killian cracked open an eye and glanced at his alarm clock, thankful that Emma had thought to close the curtains before they had gone to bed the night before – the sunlight was hidden behind their blackout curtains, and he could convince himself that it was too early to be up just yet.

"Too early, buddy," he said as he closed his eye and buried his face in his pillow.

"Dada, you _gotta_ to get up," Henry said, poking his dad in the nose. "Up, up, up!"

Killian groaned and chanced a glance over at his sleeping girlfriend. She was smiling, her eyes still closed, and it was clear to Killian that Henry had woken her up as well when he had crawled into their bed. With a sigh, he sat up and pulled Henry in for their morning cuddles.

"What's up, little man?" he asked softly, trying to keep up with Emma's ruse of being asleep. If one of them got to go back to sleep, it might as well be her.

"I pooped in the potty, Dada!" Henry was clearly excited; he started bouncing up and down in Killian's lap.

"Did you, now? That's fantastic, bud!" Killian grinned and placed a sloppy kiss to Henry's cheek before stopping and thinking for a moment. "Henry, how did you reach the sink after you went potty?"

Emma snickered, finally ending her ruse and sitting up with her little family. Henry reached up and grabbed Killian's cheeks, making her laugh harder.

"I need your help, Dada," he said honestly. "I pooped and came so you could wipe my butt and help me wash up!"

Emma was full on chortling at this point, and Killian was looking at Henry with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. Emma pulled her son from her boyfriend's lap, careful not to touch his bottom (which Killian had just noticed was completely bare) or his hands.

"Come on, little man," she said with a grin. "Let's go get you cleaned up while Dada gets a shower and throws his jammies in the laundry, okay?"

"Okay, Mama," Henry said with a grin, waving at Killian.

Killian sighed and pulled himself up and into their en suite bathroom. "It's a good thing I love that lad," he muttered.

 **January; 3 years old**

Killian was settled on their overstuffed couch with a tired Henry laying across his lap, Texas gnawing on a bone at his feet, and Emma beside him studying over the files for a new case. It had been a long shift at the fire station, and all he wanted to do was curl up with his family and relax before he went in for his next twenty four hour shift.

He was softly reading _The Princess Bride_ , one of Emma's favorite books, while stroking Henry's hair when the question was asked:

"Dada? Are you and Mama married?" Henry asked, sitting up in Killian's lap to look him in the eye.

"Why do you ask, lad?" Killian wasn't trying to be evasive; he just wasn't sure what had prompted this question, especially since they were in the middle of the Fire Swamp scene.

"Well, you and Mama love each other so you're married, right?"

Killian looked at Emma for support; they hadn't talked about marriage lately, content with their relationship how it was for the time being, and they weren't expecting questions from Henry while he was this young. Emma shrugged, silently communicating to him to do as he wished with explaining.

"Well, buddy," Killian started hesitantly, "no, Mama and I aren't married."

His little eyebrows furrowed in such an imitation of Killian that Emma had to stifle a laugh. They may not be biological father and son, but they sure copied each other's mannerisms.

"Don't you and Mama love each other?" Tears welled up in Henry's eyes. "Don't you love me?"

"Oh, lad, that's not it at all," Killian soothed, shifting so that he and Henry were looking each other in the eyes. "Mama and I love each other, and you, very much."

"Then why?"

"Why what, lad?"

"Why aren't you and Mama married?"

Killian struggled to find an answer for the perfect, curious little boy on his lap, turning to Emma again for help.

"Baby, Dada and I aren't married yet because neither of us was ready when you were born," she explained. "We wanted to love you more than anything else, so we loved you."

" _Will_ you get married?" Henry urged, turning slightly in Killian's arms to look at his mother.

"Well, buddy, that all depends on if your Dada asks me."

Henry turned back to Killian with a very serious look on his face. "Dada. You gotta ask Mama. Somethin'."

Killian laughed, placing a kiss to Henry's forehead and whispered, "I promise."

 **April; 3 years old**

"Where we goin', Dada?" Henry asked from atop Killian's shoulders.

"Do you remember when you asked if Mama and I were married?" Killian secured his grasp on his son's ankles; in response, Henry tightened his fingers in Killian's hair, making the man wince.

"Uh huh. Are you gonna marry Mama _now_ , Dada?" Henry bounced a little on Killian's shoulders, showing his excitement.

"No, lad. Not right now."

"Oh," Henry said sadly. "Okay, Dada."

"Now, Henry, I wasn't meaning that I wasn't going to ask Mama to marry me," Killian said with a grin on his lips, maneuvering them around the crowded mall. "First, we have to go on a bit of a quest, lad."

"What's that, Dada?"

"A quest? Why, it's an adventure, of course!"

"What _kinda_ 'venture, Dada?" his question brought the excitement back, and Killian winced at the pressure the boy was putting on his shoulders.

"We're looking for a ring, my boy," Killian said as he reached up, pulled Henry from his shoulders, and set him on the ground in front of him. "And here is the realm we're going to do it in."

"What's a realm?"

"A mysterious place, usually different from the world you're currently living in."

"Kinda realm's this, Dada?" Henry looked up at Killian with big, innocent eyes. "We gonna find Mama's ring here?"

"This, Henry, is a jewelry store, and yes, we can find the perfect ring for your Mama here."

There was an untold amount of glee in the little boy's eyes as he looked from his father to the store and back again. He grabbed onto Killian's left hand and started to pull.

"Let's go!" he exclaimed with a grin. "We're gonna find Mama the bestest ring ever!"

 **November; 4 years old**

"Love?" Killian asked softly, breaking the calm of the morning around them. "I know that you're awake, Emma."

"Let me sleep," she groaned, burying her face back into her pillow. "Too early for talking yet."

"Our boy is going to differ in about-" Killian glanced at the alarm clock sitting on Emma's bedside table "- fifteen minutes, and I need to ask you something before he does."

Emma sighed and sat up, turning on the lamp that sat on her bedside table, and turned to face Killian. The emerald in her ring caught the light, and Killian couldn't help but smile as he thought of what a great time he and Henry had ring shopping all those months ago. They would have to have another "quest" soon. Maybe a trip, just the two of them, into town to the toy store today. To pick out something new to go in Henry's pirate themed bedroom. A special birthday surprise.

 _Yes,_ Killian thought, _that is the perfect quest._

"You have my attention," Emma said with a slight frown. "What's going on, Killian?"

"I want to formally adopt Henry," he said softly. "Now that we're taking this next step to becoming a real family, I want Henry to be my son in every possible way. I want to actually _be_ his father."

"You're not my Dada?" the small, hurt voice came from their cracked doorway; Texas must have come in and out of their room last night, knocking the door open in his wake.

Killian's eyes shot to the little boy standing just barely in their bedroom, hair adorably mussed from sleep and still clad in his little pirate pajamas. There were tears forming in his eyes, and his bottom lip was quivering.

"Oh, Henry," Emma said softly. "Come here, baby."

She opened her arms wide and Henry ran forward to her, climbing awkwardly onto the bed. Emma tried to position him so that he was in between his parents, but Henry stayed firmly in her lap, which broke Killian's heart.

"Henry," he started, reaching out for his boy. Henry shook his head and curled into Emma more, the tears starting to fall down his face. Killian pulled his hand back and set it in his lap, a look of defeat crossing his face.

"Henry, we need to be nice to Dada," Emma urged, nudging her son forward a bit.

"No!" Henry shrieked, wrapping his arms around his mother's neck tightly. "He said he wasn't Dada! _I want my Dada!_ "

Killian felt his broken heart crumble, and regretted the fact that they never told Henry about Neal. Regretted the fact that he had been posing as Henry's biological father since the day he was born. Regretted the fact that Henry found out that Killian wasn't his real father on his birthday.

"Henry." Emma said sternly. "I need you to listen, please."

"I want Dada," Henry sobbed.

Killian reached out for his son, hoping that he wouldn't be rejected and would be allowed to explain himself to his four year old.

"Henry, I _am_ your Dada," Killian said, trying to figure out the best way to explain Neal's death to his son. "Just not biologically."

"What's b'logically mean, Mama?" Henry asked, still refusing to look at Killian.

"It means that you have the same blood," Emma explained. "I have the same blood as you, but Dada doesn't because your blood daddy was hurt badly way before you were born. He made Dada promise that he would take care of you and me, baby."

"Where's my blood Dada now?"

"Oh, baby," Emma said, burying her face in Henry's unruly hair. "He died. A long, long time ago."

Henry sniffled, snot running down his face, before finally looking up at Killian. "Why is _he_ my Dada now?"

Killian looked down at his lap, not recognizing the scathing tone in which his four year old said the word "he". Here he was, trying to make it so that he could legally be a father to his son, and his son was looking at him like he had taken away the sun, the moon, and the stars. Killian had done everything he could to be a good father to Henry; he had changed more diapers than he could count, worked countless shifts at the fire station so that he could start putting money into a college fund for him, stayed up during bad thunderstorms holding onto his son because Henry was terrified of lightning… all of it he had done out of pure love and devotion, and now he couldn't even get his son to come near him.

"Because I love you with all of my heart and soul," Killian said softly. He looked up into Emma's eyes and saw the pain that was there. It only worsened the guilt that he felt at ruining his son's… Emma's son's birthday. He peeled the blankets from his lap, thankful that it was chilly the night before and he had chosen to wear sleep pants instead of just his underpants. "I'm going to go take care of Tex, love." Defeated, Killian pulled himself from the bed and left the room, not chancing a backwards glance.

Emma sighed and turned back to her son after watching her fiancé leave the room. There were tear tracks on his chubby cheeks and snot caked under his nose, something she very rarely saw in her son.

"Henry, I need you to listen very closely to what I have to say, okay?" She waited until he nodded before continuing. "Dada loves you more than anything in the world. It doesn't matter that he isn't your blood daddy, because Dada would do anything for you. He asked me this morning if he could adopt you, baby, because _that's_ how much he loves you and wants to be your Dada."

"What does 'dopt mean, Mama?" Henry asked softly.

"It means that he wants to be your Dada in every way possible," she tried to explain. "It means that we would go to a place called a courthouse and sign a bunch of papers that would make you and Dada _legally_ related. And before you ask, legally means that these people in the courthouse will look at this piece of paper and go 'oh look, Killian Jones is Henry's Dada because that's how much he loves him'. Do you understand now, baby?"

Henry nodded again, pausing to consider what he was going to say. "Mama, did Dada leave me because I made him sad?"

"No, baby, Dada didn't leave. He was just sad so he went out of the room for a little while. Dada doesn't like for you to see him sad."

"Should I 'pologize to Dada?"

"I think you should, buddy," Emma said with a small smile. "And I think that maybe you should talk to him a little bit about the adoption, okay?"

"Okay, Mama," Henry said, crawling out of her lap and off of the bed.

Emma watched as he toddled out of the room before she flopped back onto her pillow and rubbed her temples. She was right; it was way too early for this.

"Dada?"

Killian heard the almost-whisper from his place in the kitchen. He was seated at their dining room table with a mug of hot chocolate wrapped up in his hands, his head hanging.

"Yes, Henry?"

"I'm sorry I got mad, Dada," Henry said. He walked over to the chair next to Killian and sat down, swinging his feet since they didn't touch the ground. "Do you forgive me?"

"Oh, buddy, there's nothing to forgive," Killian said, looking up at his son with tired, sad eyes. "If anything, it is I who should be asking your forgiveness."

"Why, Dada?"

"Because I kept this a secret for so long and you didn't know about your blood daddy. Because I made you upset on your birthday."

"Dada?"

"Yes, Henry?"

"I love you."

Killian smiled and looked straight into his son's eyes before speaking. "I love you more than life itself, Henry."

"Is that why you want to 'dopt me?"

Killian scooted his chair backwards and opened up his arms for his son to crawl into. It eased the pain in his chest to see that there was no hesitation before Henry did just that; maybe things were going to be okay after all. He hugged his son tight to his chest for a few moments before speaking again.

"Henry, I want to adopt you because I love you, just like I want to marry Mama because I love her. I want you to be Henry Jones, just like Mama will be Emma Jones after we get married. I want to be able to tell everyone that you're my son, and I want you to be able to tell everyone that I'm your Dada. I want the best for you, Henry Neal Swan, and that's why I want to adopt you."

"Dada?"

"Yes, buddy?"

"I think I want you to 'dopt me, too," he said with conviction, looking directly into Killian's eyes.

He couldn't help it; Killian felt the tears well up and he couldn't stop them from falling down his face. "Henry, you just made me the happiest Dada in the whole world."

Henry wrapped his tiny arms around Killian's middle and held on tightly. "Thank you for loving me, Dada," he said.

"And thank you for loving me, son."

 **February; 4 years old**

" _Shhh_ ," Killian urged Henry as they sneaked out to the kitchen. "We don't want to wake Mama up, now do we?"

"No, Dada," Henry said obediently. "Wanna give Mama a surprise!"

"That's right, lad! We're going to make Mama breakfast in bed for Valentine's Day."

"What's that again, Dada?"

"Valentine's Day? It's a holiday to show someone how much you love them."

"So we're gonna show Mama how much we love her with breakfast?" Henry cocked his eyebrow in such a Killian-like fashion that Killian had to pause for a moment and just stare. "But Dada, you only make cereal for breakfast."

Killian stared at his son in disbelief. "Just because that's what I give _you_ before school every day doesn't mean that I can't cook anything else."

"Sure, Dada," Henry said, shaking his head for a moment. "Do we have anything else for Mama?"

"We have that really pretty necklace we bought her from our last quest, remember?"

"Oh yeah!"

"So now, let's get down to business and make Mama a great breakfast, shall we lad?"

Emma woke up to the smell of burning and the sound of frantic shushing coming from downstairs. She sighed as she got out of bed, donning her robe as she left the room. She followed the smell and sounds into the kitchen where she found her boys standing at the stove, both in aprons, Henry standing almost as tall as Killian on his stepstool, with a burnt _something_ in the pan in front of them.

"Do I even need to ask?" she said with a shake of her head.

Both of her boys jumped and turned to face her with sheepish looks.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Mama!" Henry said with undisguised glee. "I told Dada just to make cereal, but he didn't listen to me."

Emma laughed and walked forward to give her fiancé and son kisses. "Maybe he should have listened to you, buddy, because cereal sounds pretty good right now."

"Told you, Dada," Henry said with a sideways glance at Killian.

"That you did, son. That you did."


End file.
